


Assassin's Archives

by xikra1648



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Family, Gen, One Shot Collection, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-11-15
Updated: 2018-04-06
Packaged: 2019-02-02 17:31:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 14,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12731109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xikra1648/pseuds/xikra1648
Summary: In the mad search for Pieces of Eden and a losing war against the Templars, the Assassin's were focused on the highlights of historical Master Assassins.  That didn't mean records of other memories were lost.  No, they were still tucked away safely in the Archives.Or, a one-shot series of our favorite Assassins.Requests open.





	1. The Sitter-Jacob

**Author's Note:**

> Why do I do this? I have homework and multiple stories to work on, games to play, work to do, and I still start doing stuff like this.
> 
> Why???

# The Sitter

### Jacob Frye

The last thing you expected to be doing when you were 20 was raising a five-year-old girl, but after your sister and brother-in-law died you were the only person that could care for your niece.  It wasn’t exactly easy, after your parents died and your sister became pregnant you were one of _two_ Assassin’s in London and at a young 15-years-old you weren’t about to be taking down the Templars.  You were about to start on a real attack with or without the Order, after you had worked with Henry Green to gather all of the information you needed, when you found yourself caring for little Sarah.

At first it seemed as if the Frye twins were a blessing, then the first week passed and…well they were a mixed blessing…

Most of the time you found yourself struggling to keep Sarah entertained as you worked with Evie, or finding a babysitter so you could rush out and clean up after whatever disaster Jacob created.  The man almost _destroyed_ London’s _entire economy_.  You spent all day running around with Evie trying to clean up the mess, then you received word Jacob had disappeared.  You spent hours looking for him before giving up, you had other things to do and you could only ask a sitter to stay with Sarah for so long, even if she was a Rook willing to help out for free-you forced her to take money every time she babysat for you.

You were too exhausted to bother with rappelling off the roof of your small apartment in Whitechapel, instead opening the window to your bedroom and slipping in from there.  Loud clunks followed as you pulled your weapons out of their hiding places in your coat and dropped them, with exception of your hair-trigger pistol which was carefully placed in your bedside table, on your desk.  Tossing your coat onto the chair at the desk, leaving you in your tight black slacks tucked into your worn black boots, white blouse, and the black leather vest that fit your form and had previously had an impressive number of weapons attached-even for an assassin.  The heels of your boots clicked against the floor, you didn’t bother hiding your presence in your home-you had long since taught Sarah the signal to let you know intruders, or worse, were in the house.

Besides, Sarah’s giggles from the living room put you at ease.

“Sarah, I’m home,” you called out tiredly, wanting to let the young girl you were home safe.  You heard her call out to you before scurrying down the hall and wrapping her arms around your hips as she hugged you tightly.

“Sorry I’m late, munchkin,” you apologized as you ran your hand through her long hair, “Maria still here?”

“Maria was sick today, but Jacob is here,” Sarah grinned up at you.  As smitten as you were with Sarah, a by-product of raising her as your own, the speed at which Jacob became smitten with your niece was astonishing.  Sarah was just as attached, she could barely stop giggling when Jacob gave her a piggy-back around town as he organized his Rooks and the gang members themselves would spoil the girl.  You didn’t mind, she was old enough and had been through enough to appreciate and return the affection rather than demand it.  You were just glad that she _had_ it, one great big family to love her.

You looked up to see Jacob leaning against the wall, his jacket, gauntlet, and hat left in the living room.  He attempted to shoot you a charming smile, but it fell when he saw the cross look you gave him-you were still mad.  Gently telling Sarah to get ready for bed, you would be there to tuck her in later, you stood up and stared unblinkingly at Jacob until you heard Sarah’s bedroom door shut.  Jacob speaking first, his hands up in defense.

“I know you’re mad but-“

“Actually, right now I’m torn between killing you and kissing you,” you corrected, stepping past him and making your way to the living room, picking up the books and toys that had entertained Sarah throughout the day.  You had expected Jacob to reply back near immediately, but the other Assassin was stuck on the fact that, if he hadn’t irked you, you might have kissed him.  Turning to face you he couldn’t help but ask…

“Is there any chance the only option will just be kissing me?”

You looked over your shoulder to shoot him a _clearly_ unamused look before turning your attention back to putting Sara’s books and most of her toys away.  You held onto her doll, a simple cloth doll with yarn hair and a blue dress, as you knew Sarah was going to want that when you put her down to bed.

“Don’t get too cocky, I just know what you went through today.  You kept the Rooks from telling me Maria couldn’t take care of Sarah for the day, then you came here and kept an eye on the troublemaking munchkin yourself when your time would have been better spent taking out Blighter strongholds,” you explained, “I appreciate that, but only enough to keep me from killing you.”

“In the interest of brownie points, I promised Sarah I’d take her out for ice cream tomorrow,” Jacob stepped closer until he was only a foot away, teasingly inviting you, “You could come along, my treat.”

To most, the deep breath you took would mean danger.  To Jacob, who knew of your love of ice cream, he knew your resolve at being angry was falling.  You turned on your heel, your pout angry but one look in your eyes and Jacob knew your resolve had fallen.

“Fine, pick us up at two o’clock,” you ordered, more than agreed, stepping around Jacob as you made your way to put Sarah to bed, stopping to place a kiss on Jacob’s cheek, right over his scar.  You ignored Jacob’s grin as you made your way through the hall and to Sarah’s room to put her to bed.  Jacob, on the other hand, continued grinning as he shrugged on his jacket, donned his gauntlet and hat before making his way to the door.

“I’ll see you tomorrow love!” he called and waited for a reply, chuckling as Sarah cheered and you laughed.  It wasn’t a night, or day, out with you, but it was still good.

Making you happy was already more than enough.


	2. Temptation-Connor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is old, really old, so sorry if it's not that great.

# Temptation

### Connor

Being an Assassin had become more and more difficult for women over the decades.  During the renaissance a woman could easily commit an assassination and go unnoticed.  After an assassination she would slip into the open window of the nearest brothel, have a glass of wine and a decent meal, maybe a bath and a change of clothes before she would disappear back into the crowd and return home.  It was even easier for the very few female Assassins during the crusades.  After an assassination she would pick up a pot, put it on her head, and walk through the market.  It was harder now in the late 1700’s.  You were instantly under scrutiny when you walked into a town or city wearing _pants_ instead of a heavy dress and bonnet.

Then again, at 11 you could hardly be called a ‘woman.’

Still, you did the best you could, but you were nowhere near good enough to chase down Haytham Kenway in a heavy woolen dress at the early age of 11.  What you could do was keep things from escalating as long as possible and wait until the Assassins could spare reinforcements.

That was before Ratonhnhaké:ton, more commonly known as Connor, arrived.  After his training was finished, things rapidly picked up speed.  One Assassin always was worth at least a dozen Templars.  Connor had been at the Davenport Homestead for six months before you had met him, you had been away gathering information while blending in with the orphans in the cities.  You heard footsteps within the home and wrongly assumed it was Achilles.  You had been so focused on your plans that you didn’t even notice that the footsteps were heavier and lacked the extra step of a cane.

“They’re still planning on a war but so far I’ve been able to-oh…you’re not Achilles,” You looked up at the young man with wide silver-blue eyes, “Is Achilles training you?”

“Um…yes, I’m…Connor,” he answered.  Connor was caught off guard by the girl, who couldn’t have been older than him.  In fact, you looked like you were a few years younger than him.

“That’s Achilles’ name for you, what’s your _real_ name?”

“Ratonhnhaké:ton,” he answered simply.

“Ratonhnhaké:ton…” it slipped off of her tongue like silk, “Is that…Kanien’kehá:ka?”

That surprised Connor further, “Yes, it is.”

“I thought so, I’m [Y/N].”  you smiled before walking up the stairs and to the bedroom with the door to the balcony, “Goodnight.”

Already by age 15, only four and a half years later, you had grown into a beautiful young woman.  Your dresses were light and simple when you could help it, and the skirts flowed around your legs as you moved.  Most days, when you didn’t have to leave the Homestead, you wore simple leather leggings and a loose white blouse, and you still carried an air of elegance with you.

Your personality was quite different from most women in the colonies.  You were a strong, outspoken, no-nonsense, independent woman who cared deeply.  Most importantly, you were _fierce_.  You reminded Connor of a Cougar protecting her cubs, though that particular imagery came to mind three years later when Connor was being held at Bridewell Prison.  You led the rescue mission when he was to be hanged for treason.  Your impeccable aim with a bow, a trait from a lifetime of living in as an Assassin, severed the noose that was supposed to strangle him.  As the guards rushed to attack, you easily fought them off using your short-sword and hidden-blade as you danced around them.  You stood in the middle of the _massacre_ , covered in blood that wasn’t yours with piercing eyes daring anyone to challenge you.

The two of you grew closer and closer, especially as you healed Connor’s wounds and assisted him by gathering information.

After Connor assassinated Benjamin Church, by working with his father, he was…conflicted.  He stayed in the basement and trained, nothing could bring him out of his thoughts.  Early one morning you woke up and put on a lightweight white dress with a tan bodice, still too sleepy to bother with much else after detangling your long hair.  The sleeves hung off of your shoulders and your bare feet padded silently through the halls as she made breakfast.  You and Achilles both heard Connor down in the basement.  Achilles made no move to go down to the basement, knowing you would do it.

It was a nice May morning in 1778 and Achilles left to sit outside, enjoying the nice weather, as you walked down to the basement.  It was on this day the temptation caused from your close connection became undeniable.

“Connor,” you attempted to get the young man’s attention and when it didn’t work you tried again, firmer, “ _Ratonhnhaké:ton._ ”

He turned to see you standing at the bottom of the stairs and didn’t know what to say.  He simply sheathed his weapon and stepped closer to you before leaning back against the post closest to him.  You walked closer to him and silently unbuttoned his coat and shirt and slid them off of his right shoulder to check the stitches you had given him weeks ago.

“I’ll have to remove these in a few days, still be careful so you don’t-“ you stopped when you felt Connor treading his hand through your long hair, brushing it out of your face.  Your gaze moved up to match Connor’s.  You thought about saying something, but you couldn’t think of anything as you slid your delicate hand down Connor’s broad shoulder down to his firm chest.  Connor’s hands made their way down to your waist and pulled you closer until the two of you were barely a breath apart, his brow almost resting against your forehead as your eyes slid shut.

Neither of you wanted to move, it was as if they belonged there like that.

_Together._

Your gaze moved back down to your hand on Connor’s chest and bit your bottom lip before you spoke, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I have a contact with information about the _Randolph_ and if we don’t go now it’s going to leave…”

“We?” Connor kept his own voice low, watching you carefully as you stepped back, the chilly air of the basement hitting the two of you as the world made itself known once again, bringing you out of the impression the only inhabitants of the world were you and Connor.

“Crazy old Morgan won’t give the information to anyone else…” You explained briefly, taking your leave as you nervously brushed a hand through your hair and ducked your head to hide the heat spreading through your body.  As dreamlike as that was, you couldn’t focus on it or act on the feelings churning through you.

You had too much work to do.


	3. Fates Intertwined-Ezio

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know guys...I don't know...

# Fates Intertwined

### Ezio Auditore da Firenze

You had been one of the few, and last, initiates Ezio had recruited before the fall of Monteriggioni, you had been a youthful 15-years-old at the time, but you were progressing through your training with a speedy promise.  You enjoyed the days Ezio was in town, he was by far your favorite of those training you and your fellow students.  Though, your attraction to him did have a lot to do with that particular judgement.  Still, he was a good teacher, patient and always up for a laugh to make things fun.

When the Borgia’s attacked the Assassin town, a step in the war between Assassins and Templars, everything changed.  You found yourself learning on the job more and more, initiated only months after the fall of your home, and you were given increasingly difficult orders.  Despite all of this, you did not _officially_ meet Ezio for years, having long since relocated yourself to assist the Ottoman Brotherhood.  They were good, but sometimes things demand a defter touch, one that you just happened to have.

You were an unexpected sight to the Master Assassin, in all honesty, as you didn’t fit in with the rest of the Ottoman Brotherhood at all.  For starters, you were far smaller, but your robes were clearly styled to allow you to blend into the crowds of Italy.  You even seemed familiar, and he was kicking himself for forgetting your name.  Ten years ago, that never would have happened, but the last time he saw you was _fifteen_ years ago, when you were a measly 23-years-old.

Your girlish crush on the Master Assassin had faded over the years, and while he was just as handsome as ever and his voice-when he wasn’t attempting to sing-was just as soothing, you were no longer a child.  You found yourself getting to know the man better, as he would find you reading or escaping to a nearby garden or rooftop to escape.  It wasn’t until much later, after Yusuf’s death, that you found yourself suspecting the man was tracking you down _on purpose_ , and not just _stumbling_ across the spots you found solitude.

He was, though to his defense the first few times he simply had stumbled upon you in your moments of solitude.  It wasn’t until he found you on the roof of the Ottoman Brotherhood, tending to a garden where you grew a multitude of beautiful poisonous plants and healing herbs, as you sang a lullaby in your native Italian.  The song had been stuck in your head for _days_ , and you had been humming it on occasion, but this was the first chance you had to actually sing it in an attempt to chase it from the confines of your mind.  He attempted to join in, it had worked when he was a younger man, and you _immediately_ cut in.

“No, _no_ , no,” you stood upright from where you were tending to your flowers and held your hand up to signal him to stop, though your smile and the lilt in your voice gave away your amusement, “You are a _horrid_ singer, and the song is already torturing me enough.”

“ _Mia bella_ , I am wounded,” he returned, joking just as you did as he stepped closer to join you, but far closer than he normally did.  He was never sure if he believed in fate or destiny, but with you it sure felt like it.  You would not be there had he not recruited you on a whim, but with nothing to guide his decision and nothing to earn he recruited you anyway.  Now here you were, years later, singlehandedly healing years-decades-of emotional wounds by your presence alone.

He was leaving for Masayaf soon, a dangerous place to be, and he was not sure he would return.  You knew this, and you knew you couldn’t follow him, but you handed him a pouch of healing herbs and held his hands in your own.

“Promise you will return, _alive_ ,” you pleaded, looking down at your interjoined hands, your eyes sliding shut as you felt the Master Assassin gently press his lips against your forehead.  He didn’t give you the promise you sought, only whispered a sweet goodbye in your native Italian before he left you to worry for far too long. 

You told him off for that, when he returned, as you welcomed him to safety only days before he took you home, to Italy, where the two of you stayed.  Maybe your fates really were intertwined by a force neither of you could understand, Ezio had certainly faced enough mysteries left behind by precursors who left enough of an impression to spur tails of _gods._   Then again, maybe there was no such thing as fate or destiny.

Maybe the two of you just happened to stumble into a happy ever after.


	4. Request: Hermosa Asesina Pt. 1-Ezio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You had known Ezio since you moved to Florence from your home of Spain, instantly connecting with him as children and finding him to be a regular figure in your life. A shame your life as an Assassin complicated your life long before Ezio even knew of the Assassins and Templars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A LONG overdue request. This is probably a LOT longer than you were looking for, but I started and it ended up becoming a four part series so...yeah...
> 
> Disclaimer: I know very little Spanish (see: none at all), and everything in Spanish has been put through Google translate. Should anyone who knows Spanish (specifically from Spain, as I do know there are different dialects depending on the country) feel free to drop a comment to correct me. This also has multiple parts, because I felt like it was necessary to keep the flow without it becoming a ramblingly long one-shot.
> 
> P.S. I may have fiddled with the timeline a tiny bit, but to be fair I haven’t played the game in a long time. Nothing massive, Ezio may have met Cristina a little earlier in this but that’s about it.

# Hermosa Asesina Pt. 1

### Ezio Auditore da Firenze

You first met when you were young, children even, after your father uprooted your entire family from Spain and landed your entire family in Florence for _business._   You were _partially_ aware of what that really meant, though you were still young to know the details.  What you _did_ know, was you had never been in a house that felt so… _busy._

After your brother’s ‘mysterious’ death, you were an only child, and your mother intended for it to stay that way.  She was always busy with _something_ and did not have time to raise and care for more children, let alone _have_ the children in the first place.  This house, the Auditore household, was loud and bustling with multiple children already.  There was the oldest, Federico, running around with his little brother Ezio, who was a few months older than you.  The younger two were sequestered by their mother, Petruccio was only a baby but Claudia was curious to meet the new girl, who, couldn’t be that much older than her.

Being the only child was a double-edged sword.  You had all of the attention, but you also received all of the discipline, and eventually all of the training.  At your young age when you first met the Auditore family, it meant you simply sat quietly as your mother spoke with Maria as your father spoke with Giovanni in private.  Your feet didn’t reach the floor, you were still small and the chair you sat in was built with a fully-grown adult in mind, so you spent the time staring down at your feet as you slowly kicked them back and forth, almost to examine your new shoes.  Your hair had been pulled back so tightly into a braided pun that it hurt, and your new dress was terribly uncomfortable.

Federico eventually slowed down during his game of tag with his brother, walking over to you and staring at you with big brown eyes.  It took a bit of prodding, you were shy and unsure if you were allowed to play with the boys before your mother gave you a gentle nudge off of your seat and a smile.

_“Ve a divertirte,”_ your mother smiled.  _Go have fun_ she said, so you grinned up at her, a gap where you had just lost a baby tooth and the one next to it growing looser by the day, before you slid off your seat and chased after Federico to play with him and his brother.  Despite the fact Federico was the one to reach out to you first, it was Ezio you became closest with.  The second you _tackled_ him to get the ball from him, you were _vehement_ to win the game, the boy cackled as the golden specks in his eyes lighting up as he knew he found a companion for life.

Your mother wasn’t nearly as amused, considering the dirt on your dress and the messy state of your hair, but there was no missing the endearing smile as she looked down at you.  You didn’t have many friends in Spain, things were becoming too perilous and there was no telling who was a Templar and who was and Assassin, because there sure as hell wasn’t anyone not involved in the war.  Now, you not only had a friend, but a friend she knew you could trust, that _she_ could trust.  Your father picked you up and carried you home, you excitedly told him of your day.

Years later, you were only 15, you had already taken your father’s place within the Brotherhood.  There wasn’t a choice, your mother had an old knee injury that never healed correctly, and your father was killed in a staged carriage accident.  You were not responsible for the more technical parts just yet, you investigated and acted as Giovanni and your mother instructed you to, but it wouldn’t be long until you would be experienced enough to make the calls yourself.  Between your lifetime of training from your mother, and Giovanni’s further training once you received your own blade and bracer, your skills in the field had yet to be rivaled by your young age.

“Does Ezio know?” you asked one evening as Giovanni overlooked your training with Federico, sheathing your daggers as the two of you took a much-needed break.  Federico was failing to hide his grin when you asked, the older teen had long-since figured you had fallen for your best friend, and he found _great_ amusement in that fact.  So much so that he would tease the fact _he_ was the golden matchmaker, having been the one to bring you and his little brother together in the first place.

“No, but he will be told soon,” Giovanni answered, giving you some comfort that you wouldn’t be keeping secrets from your best friend for much longer.  It was becoming obvious that you were hiding things from him, and he clearly did not appreciate it.  It was beginning to build walls between the two of you, and it seemed as if Ezio was beginning to distance himself from you as well.  You didn’t have many friends other than the Auditore siblings, you simply didn’t have the time, and the fact that your closest friend was distancing himself from you pained you.  You hoped finally coming clean, being able to explain that you _wanted_ to tell him all along but _couldn’t_ would repair things.

You did get that chance, but not soon enough.

You were waiting for Federico and Ezio at one of the café’s your family owned, you didn’t have the chance to attend Carnival with them as you needed to use the distraction to spy on the Templars.  To that end, the three of you were making up for the lost evening when you were finally free.  At least, that was the idea.

“ _Enough_ , Federico,” Ezio shoved his brother as he tried to get the older Auditore to stop teasing him.

“Do I even want to know?” you sighed as you placed your teacup down on the small table you sat at.  Turning in your seat, you used the back of the chair as an armrest as you laid your other arm in your lap, your legs crossed neatly as you looked up at the boys with exasperated [e/c] eyes.  There was always _something_ , whether it be the two of them getting in a fight with the Pazzi boy, a dangerous thing for _any_ Assassin, but particularly dangerous for the Auditore family.  Sure, Vieri was an irritating pig and you _hated_ playing the flirt to get information out of him, but you weren’t about to goad him and punch him in the face, no matter how much you wanted to.

“Ezio fancies Cristina Vespucci,” Federico explained as he sat across from you, turning to face his brother as if the two of you were going to lecture Ezio.  You recognized the name immediately, the young model had recently become connected to Lorenzo de Medici, a fellow member of the Brotherhood.  There was nothing against the people she was connected with, but it didn’t mean it was a good idea.  She was utterly clueless of the war between the Templars and Assassins, and so was Ezio.  At some point he wouldn’t be anymore, and that day was coming faster every day.  What’s worse, it could bring unwanted attention to Ezio, and another connection to the Brotherhood would give the Templars reason to target her despite her being a civilian.

“That is hardly a good idea Ezio, you already have enough unwanted attention.  The last thing you need are more targets gained from chasing after the Vespucci girl,” you reasoned, trying to steer Ezio away gently, bringing attention to his own well-being.  Such a relationship could only end badly for _both_ parties.

“Says the one chasing after _Vieri_ ,” Ezio shot back, clearly not appreciating your meddling, nor the fact that you had been seen flirting with Vieri de Pazzi multiple times.  Your eyes shot wide as Federico’s attention snapped from his little brother to you.  He knew you were helping Giovanni with investigations, but for you to go so far into the lion’s den…Vieri was abusive to girls he _knew_ weren’t interested.  To girls who _showed_ interest…Federico would rather not know.

“It isn’t like _that_ -“

“Then what _is_ it like?  Because he is _far_ from the first pig you’ve chased after like a-“

“This is not the time or place to-“ Federico tried to cut in before things got too heated, because clearly that was where things were headed.  There was no way to actually explain the situation, not without telling Ezio of the war with the Templars, and the eldest brother hoped that time would allow cooler heads to-

“You know _nothing_ of what I have to do just for my family to _survive_ ,” you stood as you narrowed your eyes at Ezio, staring him down as he did you, “For your sake, I hope you never do, but do not _ever_ assume to know why I do what I do.”

“ _Trust me_ , I don’t have to.”  Ezio’s blood had been boiling since he discovered your flirtations with the Pazzi, and Ezio wanted _nothing_ more than to track down Vieri and throw him off the nearest roof.  He didn’t _mean_ to take it out on you, but how could you even _consider_ paying attention to Vieri de Pazzi?  He didn’t even deserve to breath _poison_ , let alone the same air you breathed.  Yet, you went around flirting with that…that…

Federico watched, feeling panicked for the first time in years and _waiting_ for you to throttle his little brother.  There was _no way_ for this to end well.  Either you attacked Ezio, resulting in him refusing to fight back to avoid hurting you _or_ he tried to fight back to keep you from _killing him_ , or you just walked off.  If you attacked Ezio, at least there was a chance the two of you would eventually speak again.  The two of you would get your anger out and eventually be able to speak calmly.  If you just left, then things would continue to simmer inside and-

You just stepped around Ezio and left, walking swiftly down the streets until you reached home.  You were livid, how _dare_ he make such accusations and treat you like you were _whoring around_?  All these years later and it was like he knew _nothing_ of you or _worse_ , expected you to be capable of such behaviors all along!  He’s such a…a… _burro!_   Honestly!  You had _watched_ him going around and flirting with girls all the damn time, and that jackass thinks he has the right to snap at you?

You practically ripped off your white robe and threw it onto the chair matched with your small desk before pulling off your daggers and throwing them into a straw dummy stashed in the corner of your room, both of them landing within the center of the target painted onto the head of the dummy.  You shouldn’t have been so angry, Ezio couldn’t have known the entire story and what he _did_ know certainly didn’t look good, but you still wanted to _strangle_ Ezio.  You _almost did._

“ _Tenemos un mensaje_ ,” your mother held out the opened letter to you, and once you saw the Assassin sigil within the red wax you knew why it was for the two of you.  Still, what was so big that your own mother couldn’t break the news to you herself?

You skimmed over the greeting and opening of the letter, reaching the bad news within the core of the center.

_It is with a heavy heart that I must instruct you to leave Firenze, as it has grown far too dangerous for the [L/N] family to remain.  The Templars are targeting you specifically, and as such you must escape.  I offer my home in Monteriggioni and promise you will be surrounded by allies of the Brotherhood._

“He says we have a week until the first attempt, we must be in Monteriggioni by then,” she summarized the rest of the letter, waiting for you to react.  She didn’t mind telling you of the big move years ago, you weren’t about to miss anyone when you left Spain, but your life was here in Firenze.  You had friends, your first love was here in Firenze.  You wouldn’t be far, you would be living with his own uncle, but your mother remembered when she parted ways with her first love.  She was just a teenager and moved on, finding your father, but she felt broken-

“We should start packing, it would be best if we left in the night,” you spoke calmly, taking the letter across your large bedroom and to the fireplace, starting a fire and tossing the letter into the flames to eliminate the evidence, “I’ll ask Federico and Signore Auditore if they can help.  We can leave the furniture, focus on personal effects and the most important items.”

“Cariño, estas bien?” Your mother stepped closer and placed a gentle arm on your shoulder, worried that there was something more than just the impending move bothering you.  She knew you were in a sour mood when you returned home, far earlier than she originally expected, and if the news could have waited she would have let it wait until you weren’t in such a sour mood.

There was a long silence as the walls you built crumbled, the strong teenage Assassin crumbled and revealed the teenage girl you still were as tears threatened to ruin your neat makeup as you let out a sniffle and a simple answer, “No.”

“Mi hermosa asesina,” your mother cooed as she pulled you into a hug, reminding you of the beautiful assassin you were as she let you release your tears and sobs, clinging to her.  You would tell her just what was bothering you with time, for now she let you cry as she carefully led you to the foot of your bed, so you could sit as she held you.  Teenage years were always perilous, particularly to the heart.

Your teenage years were far more perilous than most.


	5. Request: Hermosa Asesina Pt. 2-Ezio

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Only months away from Firenze and things were falling apart. The Auditore family had been targeted by the Templars, and they needed help. Ezio dealt with the fact you were not only keeping secrets, but his father's secrets as well. He was just glad to have you back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know very little Spanish or Italian (see: none at all), and everything in Spanish or Italian has been put through Google translate. Should anyone who knows Spanish (specifically from Spain, as I do know there are different dialects depending on the country) or Italian feel free to drop a comment to correct me.

# Hermosa Asesina Pt. 2

### Ezio Auditore da Firenze

To say things had blown up when Ezio and Federico were in private would be underestimating things.  While you had openly admitted to having feelings for Ezio, the second of the Auditore children was unaware of his own feelings for you.  The boy had been smitten with you since you tackled him the day you met, he grinned the second he caught sight of you and would dash to your side no matter the circumstances.  The _second_ he learned you were flirting with other boys, Ezio refused to admit _any_ of them were worth a second of your time, and Federico was convinced you could be dating a _literal_ Saint and Ezio would _still_ insist you were too good for that.  It was fucking _pathetic_.

Getting either of you to talk before you left was impossible, and you managed to pack up and leave in a matter of _days_.  You didn’t even tell Giovanni or Federico where you were going, and while he suspected his father knew where you and your mother were heading there was no getting the Auditore patriarch to spill the secret.  It was likely for your own safety, though Federico wished it didn’t have to be that way.

A romance with Cristina did not go as well as Ezio planned, or hoped for.  Not when Cristina asked just who you were, and why your sudden disappearance seemed to hit him so hard.  Brushing it off like you were just a friend did not go too well, and while the relationship continued, Cristina kept her distance.  For starters, Ezio would always drop everything for his family.  It was something that would normally be admirable, if it were not the fact that _you_ and the memory of the missing [L/N] family hung heavily over the Auditore family.  Only months before your disappearance, Maria de Auditore had commissioned a painting of you for your 16 th birthday.  Though, to be fair, not even Ezio knew of that until he joined his mother to Leonardo’s shop to pick up that paining, along with others.

He stopped to stare at it, as if suddenly struck with the fact that you hadn’t been the little girl that tackled boys to win ball games for a long time.  He briefly caught his mother complimenting Leonardo on the finished produce, and the young painter and inventor thanked his patron and reminisced on how he fully enjoyed painting you.  A _stirring muse_ he called you, while explaining fully capturing the complex creature you are was quite difficult.  There was something about you that was beautifully _dangerous_ , and capturing that had been quite the struggle.

All Ezio could focus on was the painting, the way the simple white dress flowed around you, the long sleeves falling off of your shoulders, the brown leather corset fit around your waist, and the way your soft lips were parted as you looked off into the distance.  Your hand clutched a dagger, as if preparing for danger, and your hair flowed over the opposite shoulder as a complex working of shadows both highlighted your features and the danger you posed to any oncoming threat.

_Mother of god_ , did he miss you.

 

In Renaissance Italy you had to be careful, especially coming from an upper-class family.  It wouldn’t be fitting to be seen in trousers and a cloth shirt, even if you bit the bullet and wore a corset over it.  Your Assassin’s robes had to reflect your station while allowing you to maintain the rouse that you were simply an upper-class young woman who dressed for comfort.  To that end, your white robes flowed around you much like a gown, reaching the ground as laces running up your torso from your pelvis kept the hooded robes tied over your comfortable red blouse and the belts that held your throwing knives, daggers.  Your hidden blade had to be minimalist, little more than a few straps and the same mechanism that allowed the hidden blade to work, disguised by your long sleeves and black gloves.

 The long cloak allowed you the freedom to wear black slacks and knee-high boots, but you couldn’t say you weren’t _pissed_ you had to continue to _hide_ the fact you were a fighter simply because you were a _girl_.  You wanted to help the crumbling town you were living in, but without a partner to help keep an eye out for the Templars hunting you, there was only so much you could do.

You ignored all of that once word of Giovanni Auditore’s arrest reached Monteriggioni, grabbing your robe and slipping it on as you sprinted out of the training circle and sprinted through the streets to snatch a horse at the stable.  You ignored Mario’s calls, and your mother’s as well, as you steered your horse in the direction of Firenze before kicking it into a gallop, the Templars and their cronies who had been watching for you too focused on eliminating the Auditore’s in Firenze to stop you.  The spotted mare hadn’t even stopped as you swung one leg over the saddle and prepared to disembark before you reached a full stop, letting the horse trot towards the stablemaster as you flipped the hood of your robe up and made your way through the streets.

Templars had men on the rooftops, fucking figured.

You rushed through the streets, making your way to the brothel, scaling the wall to Paola’s room instead of using the front door.  The window was open, but Paola was nowhere to be found, unusual considering this time she would most likely be working on the books for the brothel.  You quietly slipped through the door, keeping the clicking of the doorknob and swing of the heavy door silent as you slipped through.  You continued, your boots silent against the red carpet until you caught sight of the surviving members of the Auditore family in the entrance hall.

You slipped out of hiding, flipping your hood down as you rushed down the stairs, your robe trailing after you as you called out, “Claudia, Signora Auditore.”

“ _[Y/N]!”_ Claudia bolted out of her seat next to her mother, who was still locked in a stunned silence, and sprinted to you and clung to you in a tight hug, stopping when she noticed something hard and metal under your robe.  She stepped back and furrowed her brow at you, confused before you pulled the robe aside.  The black corset around your waist protected your bust and torso, the belt at your waist was lined in throwing knives, your daggers were strapped to your thighs, and hunting knives were hidden in your boots.

You didn’t know what you were expecting, but it wasn’t Claudia pleading to you, “You have to help Ezio, he’s left to get revenge and the entire city is after him-“

“Paola!  Where is he going?” you turned your attention to the Assassin in hiding, knowing she would tell you who the target was.  You didn’t know what training Ezio actually had, it was one thing to Free Run through his home town and win fights in the streets.  Being and Assassin was far more complicated.

“Uberto Alberti, Ezio quickly mastered the basics but he could use your help getting himself and his family out of the city,” Paola answered simply, bringing a glass of warm red wine to Maria in an attempt to sooth the woman whose world and soul were shattered, sitting next to Maria and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder as Maria took the glass and slowly drank it, “According to the girls, he’s at the Basilica di Santa Croce.”

“ _Gracias_ , Paola.  I’ll be back with Ezio soon,” you promised, giving Claudia a quick hug before rushing out the front door, flipping your hood back up with a practiced flick of your wrists as you made your way through the streets to the Basilica.  You spotted Ezio watching Uberto and whistled for the nearest group of courtesans to follow, one of the blessings of being a female Assassin was free assistance from local courtesans and being able to easily blend in by the simple fact you are a woman.  They scampered after you, passing them a few coins despite knowing full well they would help you without it-they were losing business by helping you and deserved to be paid for their services-and caught up to Ezio.

“You really are a particular type of _stupid_ , aren’t you?” you spoke just loud enough for Ezio to hear you when you caught up, the new Assassin turning to look down at you.  He instantly recognized your voice, he always would no matter how long you were apart, but you looked up just enough to shoot him a sideways glance before looking ahead as the girls surrounded the two of you.

“What are you doing-“

“Making sure you don’t get yourself killed, you have no idea what you’re doing,” you explained shortly as your eyes shifted around the area as you followed Uberto.  The guards seemed clueless enough, and Ezio knew enough to send the girls to distract the guards and allow the two of you inside.  He wasn’t prepared for the guards _inside_ , however, and you snatched Ezio by his right wrist, being sure not to grab him by the arm with his hidden blade, as you pulled him aside to a corner.  While only months ago the two of you had fallen apart, that didn’t mean you didn’t care, and that certainly didn’t mean you wanted to sit back and let the fool get himself killed.  Still, you were in the field, and you were always calm and calculated within the field.

It was as if you never even noticed that you and Ezio were breathing the very same air as you watched Uberto, noting the guards within the area.  You calculated plans of attack, the best of which involved _Ezio_ posing as a distraction as you eliminated Uberto, but this was Ezio’s vengeance to claim, not yours.

“I will distract the guards, you eliminate Uberto _quickly_ and _quietly_ , then we can leave.”

The burro just had to go an _announce_ himself after using his hidden blade like some common knife.

 

You left Mario to train his nephew, opting for getting Claudia and Signora Auditore settled within the villa, leaving your robes in your room even though you were still heavily armed.  At least, that’s what you _thought_ was going to happen.  Then you stepped outside for a minute to get some fresh air, and next thing you knew, you were giving Ezio a tour of the town.  He had been hard at work training since he arrived, and had yet to actually tour the town despite the overhead view he got from the roof of the villa.

“The town has hit a hard spot, but with a bit of work it can be put back together,” you explained as you led Ezio through the town and showed him the tailor, blacksmith, and even the painter’s shop.  The entire time he was simply watching you.  The small town surrounding the villa was the only place safe enough for the two of you to lower your hoods, and while it was only a few months you seemed so…different. 

Maybe he was simply seeing you in a different light, maybe it was the fact that your absence made him realize just how much he _missed_ you.  There was also the fact the top few buttons of your blouse were left undone, giving an alluring view of your bust, and your fitting black slacks gave a fantastic view of not only your legs but your ass.  Your long air flowed in the light breeze and you knew everyone in the town, and they all seemed so thrilled to see you, even the children.

It was probably best Federico never spilled the secret of your feelings to his little brother, because as you were getting over him, he was falling for you.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You knew everything would become so much more complicated once you reached Venice. You remembered your father had left for business in Venice, and on his way back he was killed in an 'accident.' You just didn't know how complicated things would become.
> 
> Or how complicated they already were.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, there will be one last part to this, and it is currently in progress. As always anything that is Italian or Spanish has been Google Translated. Anyone fluent in Italian or Spanish, feel free to correct me in the comments.

# Hermosa Asesina Pt. 3

### Ezio Auditore da Firenze

The two of you had stopped at Leonardo’s new shop in Venice for a brief break, running around for Rosa and the Venetian Thieves’ Guild, led by Antonio de Magianis, was getting exhausting.  Yes, it was leading the two of you closer and closer to Barbargio, but every time the two of you showed up to patch your wounds and rest the guild had something new for the two of you.  The only chance was the two of you had to _actually_ rest was by staying at Leonardo’s shop.  You felt bad for bumming off of the artist, but Ezio ensured the other young man wouldn’t mind.

Ezio was correct, Leonardo was more than happy to help his friends, but there was a little something you weren’t aware of as you made dinner for the three of you-something you insisted on in order to ease your guilt.

“You are smitten with her,” Leonardo whispered to his friend after you almost literally kicked them away from the cooking pots, they had been sticking by you and disrupting literally _every_ attempt you made at making dinner.  The two were left at the table, drinking a bottle of wine as they remained in a proverbial _time out_.  Ezio didn’t argue, just hung his head briefly before admitting his friend was right.

“Become _that_ obvious, has it?”  It wasn’t so much of a question as a statement, especially as he turned to watch you as you flipped the wooden spoon in your hand with the same dexterity you used your knives and daggers.  Funny, Ezio didn’t remember hearing you chop the vegetables…

“It is easy to believe,” Leonardo gave his friend the benefit of the doubt as he lowered his wineglass and explained, “There is something about a strong woman, how she can go from making supper and tending wounds to eliminating any foe who challenges her.  A dangerous grace impossible to put into words, and even more impossible to resist.”

“That is…part of it,” Ezio admitted as his mind wandered to more private moments, as the two of you sprinted across rooftops or scrambled to collect Eagle feathers for Maria.  You had sounded absolutely _insane_ when you told him to give you a boost to reach a particularly large Eagle feather.  To be fair, the two of you were already carefully balanced on the edge of the building, and you needed him to give you enough of a boost that he was almost _throwing_ you onto the dome in the hopes you would reach the decorative ledge and scramble up to the Eagle feather.  He actively called you insane, then you replied with a fiery, _“No seas un poco puta!”_

He wasn’t fluent in Spanish, not _yet_ , but he had heard you call him a puta enough times to know just what you meant.  So, he angrily frowned at you and gave you the damn boost you were demanding, while also carefully watched and prepared to save you, even if he ended up falling off of the building himself.

Then there were the quiet times, sitting on rooftops with a bottle of wine you ‘found,’ the strolls along the rooftops after escaping the guards.  Even sitting on the walls surrounding Monteriggioni and the surrounding town.  He would catch you teaching Claudia how to, properly, use a knife or humming to yourself as you deciphered the codex pages and other old texts the Assassins had collected over the years, or even just perusing for a book to read.  You didn’t catch the look as you placed dinner plates in front of Leonardo and Ezio, the Assassin watching your every move.  Leonardo, however, did catch the look and, upon the two of you leaving he urged his friend to actually _do_ something, but never said anything about it again.

Partially because Ezio became the most wanted man in all of Venice soon afterwards.  The two of you remained in hiding for a while, Ezio was confined inside as you would go about and run errands despite the fact he told you to leave for your _own_ safety.  You never left.  Well, you did _once_ , at least he thought you did.  Then you returned later that evening, saying you got caught up in helping the Thieves Guild with something or other.

Ezio, who had shed his shirt as he impatiently paced the small home to pass his time in fucking _confinement_ , watched as you shut the door behind you and locked it.  Then, thinking ahead as you always did, you positioned a chair just under the doorknob to keep the door wedged shut before you pulled out a map and unfurled it across the table.

“There’s a Codex page hidden somewhere…” you slowed to a stop when you noticed Ezio had frozen as he watched you untying your white robe and letting it slip off your shoulders as you pulled your arms through the sleeves, “What?”

“I didn’t think you’d come back…” he admitted, wide eyes still staring at you as a small breeze danced through the open window and caused you to comb your hand through your hair to brush it out of your face.

“I’ll admit I’m offended, but it does explain why you let your hair down.”  You shrugged off the revelation before turning back to the map and attempting to continue your explanation.  That was, at least, what you _thought_ what you were doing.  Ezio wasn’t listening as he crossed the room, placed a hand on your waist and spun you around to face him before gently cupping your cheeks and kissing you.  When the shock subsided, you were tempted to simply fall into the kiss and let whatever would happen to happen.

You were gentle as you pulled his hands away from your cheeks and pulled back, your eyes flitting up to catch his briefly before you looked away.  This was…complicated.  Feelings you had thought were gone began to resurface, reminding you of the girlish flutter in your chest and the blushes you kept hidden throughout your youth.  The heartbreak of leaving, trying to prevent Ezio from getting hurt by-

“We cannot do this, Ezio.  We’re partners, If you put my safety above-“  You tried to explain, you tried to end it quickly with the logical explanation without getting into the more specific details.  You were never one for the more… _emotional_ talks, you were rarely one to express big shows of emotion since you started getting older, and your responsibilities began piling up.  Somebody had to be the responsible party between the two of you, and when this whole… _hunt_ started, it clearly wasn’t going to be Ezio.

“I will always put your safety above everything _mio caro_ , with or without _us_ ,” Ezio already knew what you were trying to do, you were trying to logic you way out.  You were going to reason your way out of it.  If you didn’t return his feelings, he would back off, but he wasn’t going to just let you rule it impossible because you overthought things.  You looked up at him, wide eyes and parted lips as you heard what he said and froze again, having rarely seen Ezio act so…genuine outside of dealings with his family.  Most of the time it was jokes and smiles, but this…

You smiled softly after letting out a soft chuckle, “ _Idiota imprudente.”_

As much as you would have loved to stay there, kissing Ezio as you lazed around to let the days pass in hiding, your job was hardly done.  You needed to make a move against the Doge, and the only way to him would be attending his private party during Carnevale.  The two ways into the party were flirting your way in, something you were more than capable of, or winning the _Golden Mask_ , a competition only open to men.

You dug up a dress once you reached Sister Teodora’s brothel, after meeting with Antonio as he had taken to hiding in the last safe refuge in the city.  You found a deep red velvet dress, specifically one that did not have the multiple skirts most noblewomen wore as part of their status in life.  Such things wouldn’t allow you to move freely, and the long wide sleeves were going to be difficult enough in a fight, let alone the lack of protection from the off-the-shoulder design.  Still, the red velvet lined in silver and gold had something… _alluring_ about it.

You put on your makeup, managed to wrestle your otherwise untamable hair into an elegant braid, and took the masquerade mask supplied by Sister Teodora.  Nobody stopped you as you approached the main festivities, though one of the young men behind the festivities gave you a ribbon to hold.  You watched the festivities, flirting with multiple men that had access to the Doge’s party, never bothering with the bodyguard as he wouldn’t have access if things went according to plan.

Most women at Carnevale didn’t have a mask, and while you didn’t need one to hide your identity as you weren’t _nearly_ as infamous as Ezio had become, it still added a level of… _mystery_ around you, an extra allure.  You didn’t actually see Ezio until one particular competition required him to collect ribbons from women by flirting and _wooing_ them.  Ezio had opted for picking pockets, allowing him to zoom in on you as picking your pocket was never going to work, though that didn’t stop him from trying to stick his hand into the small pouch on the, mostly decorative, silver and gold cloth belt hanging low on your waist.  You reached back and gripped his wrist to stop him.

“That’s not going to work on me, and we both know you have enough ribbons to win the competition,” you teased as you lifted the goblet of wine to your lips, only drinking enough to sate your thirst as you needed to stay alert.  Your red painted lips remained a pouty look as you continued to watch the festivities like a hawk.

“Perhaps, but I find it more meaningful to get _your_ ribbon _mio caro_ ,” he whispered into your ear, hot breath brushing against your skin before he stepped around to face you, and it was then you remembered.  The crest of the Auditore family was made up of three colors: red, gold, and white.  You had taunted the lion, inadvertently, and despite the mask you could _still_ make out the fact Ezio’s mind had gone completely _blank_ when he saw you. 

You never had felt a thrill from trailing a man along before, though it was hardly the first time you toyed with one.  You were one of very few female assassins, and one of even _less_ that were capable of fighting.  Teasing and flirting your way to information was part of your job, but this was different.  This was safe, this was peaceful.  This was… _fun_.

“You’ll have to do better than _base flattery_ to get this ribbon _Signore_ ,” you continued to tease him as you untangled the ribbon from between your fingers before dangling it in front of your fellow Assassin like you did your childhood cat.  Ezio’s golden eyes flicked from you to glance at the ribbon you dangled in front of him, before flicking right back to staring you down.

“I am not sure I am capable of much else, bella, as you make me speechless,” Ezio continued, stepping closer as his golden eyes watched you from behind his Carnevale mask, “ _La luna e le stelle invidieranno la tua bellezza per l’eternit_ _à.”_

“For eternity, you say?” you mused as you pursed your lips.  You had already been swooned by the looks the man was giving you, but you had never enjoyed toying with a man so much before and decided to keep the ploy going for just a bit.  Humming as if you were mulling over Ezio’s performance as the competition came to an end, you took your ribbon and slipped it into Ezio’s pocket with the others.

“I suppose you’ve earned the ribbon, but I do expect you to improve your game if you wish to continue this… _talk_.”

The conversation did continue once you returned to the brothel, after you slipped into the room you were using as you righted the wrongs in Venice.  You reached behind you to untie the laces of the bodice, as the ones in the front were purely decorative, and found yourself struggling as you couldn’t _see_ the impenetrable knot you tied only hours ago.  Ezio took that as his moment to strike, having slipped into your room for…something and catching you struggling to undress.  He quickly shut the door behind him before speeding forward, dropping his hood as he deftly untied the knots in your dress.

“ _Gracias_ ,” you thanked him, looking up to him as everything froze the second your eyes met without the masks guarding you from each other.  He slowly drew closer to you, your lips only a hairs breadth apart before he stopped.

“Stop me if you must, mio caro,” he whispered against your lips, causing you to reach behind Ezio’s head and pull him into a kiss, turning to fully face Ezio as he placed his hands on your waist.  The kiss started warm and gentle to scolding and passionate as you pulled Ezio closer, standing on your toes as he pulled you as close to him as possible.  You tried to step back, but nearly tripped over your dress and pulled away to shed the thing once and for all, fed up with having to fiddle with the damn thing all night, and left you in your underwear and stockings.

Ezio watched the velvet fall from your shoulders and to the floor, pooling around your feet, and as you turned to lead him to the bed he pulled you back against him and placed soft kisses on your shoulder, whispering a string of sweet things against your skin.  You smiled, reached around and pulled the red ribbon holding back Ezio’s hair out and held it in your hand, slipping free of his grasp and turning to tease him with the ribbon as you deftly stepped towards the bed.

“I take it this is mine, then,” you teased as you dangled the ribbon in front of him, causing him to laugh, pulling on the many belts of his Assassin’s robes before shedding them on his way to you.  He slipped off his hidden blade before picking you up and pinning you beneath him on the bed, laughing with you before kissing you once again.

_Gracias a Dios_ you were staying with Sister Teodora, because if Paola had been the one to catch the two of you, tangled in the blankets in the morning, she would have been far less willing to just _let it go._


	7. Secrets Of The Rook-Jacob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You found the baby Rook wounded and injured, taking the bird in and healing him. In return, he stuck around and considered you his flock. That was how you earned the nickname from Jacob, 'Rook.'
> 
> Neither of you knew just how...symbolic that nickname would become.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Angst, MAYBE a part two. No promises though, so it might just be left at a cliffhanger or left for you to imagine what happened next.
> 
> Also, Rooks are flocking birds. They like to stick together with their family, unless they're unable to of course. They're also pretty smart, they can learn to manipulate objects to get what they need or want. They also live, on average, 22 years.

# Secrets Of The Rook

### Jacob Frye

As much as Evie mocked Jacob for the name of the gang, she knew full well it had nothing to do with the chess piece.  Just like his urge to save London wasn’t so much for adventure as it was Personal.  Just like the reasons it was so easy to convince the usually cautious Evie to venture to London with him.

It all started years earlier, with one of the other children running about Crawley.  While there weren’t many children training to be field Assassins, most were taking non-combatant rolls in the Creed and only had the most basic training, the twins didn’t pay you much mind at first.  They were constantly competing with each other, and you were a bit…odd. 

Perhaps _odd_ was the wrong word, as most adults with your insight would be called _wise_.  You were also very shy, unless speaking with adults.  The second you had to speak with children your own age, you clammed up and hid.  It wasn’t until the three of you were nearing adolescence that you became more than a minor blip on the twins’ radar.

Master Assassin Frye thought it would be a good turn of pace for the twins to train with someone else.  Your mother thought it would be good for you to train with someone that wasn’t _her_ , and give you actual proof of how well you were doing.  You kept your hood up, shifting in your booted feet as you argued it was to protect your ears from the cold.  It was a particularly chilly fall day, the wind cutting right through your trousers, but there was no dismissing the obvious pointing to just how shy you were.

That was the first time you met with Jacob cackling as you flattened Evie with your training daggers.  You explained you only had your mother, a Master Assassin herself, to train with.  She was _not_ easy on you.

_“Templars won’t take it easy on you, and neither will I.”_

The next day it was Evie’s turn to laugh as you caught Jacob by surprise with a high kick, scarring his brow.  He just laid there on the ground, stunned, until he felt the sting of his blood reaching his eye.  That was a move he had literally _never_ seen before.  George and their father had done well in teaching them free running and combat, but the surprising acrobatics mixed with your flexibility was something else entirely.  There was just no way to predict which way you were going to flip, jump, or just _bend_ out of the way.

Then there was that _damn_ bird.

The Rook had been just a baby when you found it crying by the front door of your house, abandoned with a broken wing.  You picked up the poor thing and cared for it, bringing it back to full health, and in return it became a constant companion.  A year later, the thing would swoop in and harass your opponent before flying off to another perch.  It even took you by surprise at first, you had expected the oddly quiet Rook to take off after you healed it.  Instead, it stuck around.

_“Are you sure you’re not a Rook yourself?” Jacob teased as the three of you sat on the tallest roof in town, your Rook, Luca, perched himself on your shoulder when he returned from finding food._

_“You would like that, it would be a convenient reason why I’m faster,” you teased as you gently scratched at Luca’s head, the unusual bird leaning into it and nudging you with his beak to return the sentiment.  The poor thing had been abandoned by his mother, and you had been the one to nurse him to health after the trying experience.  To him, you were a bloody saint._

_Jacob glared at his sister as she started snickering, before looking back at you with a smirk and replying, “Not for long, **Rook**.”_

As the years passed, the three of you not only grew older, but closer as well.  You were hardly ever alone anymore, if both of the twins weren’t with you, then Jacob sure was.  He followed you like a lovesick puppy, something he very much was and wasn’t about to admit.  You were almost 20 when you were sent to London, your mother’s death and Ethan Frye’s health leaving the Brotherhood short handed.  It wasn’t worth trying to keep your departure a secret either, the twins would immediately know you had left.  It was simply best to tell them, giving a week for goodbyes.

You had heard of a tradition started years ago, women would put a coin on a string for their loved ones who went to war.  It was a token of luck, and would allow the soldier to get food and lodgings should they get lost.  While a single coin wouldn’t do much in Victorian England, it was the sentiment that counted more than anything.  You grabbed a shilling, cleaning it off before heating the coin and using a throwing knife to carefully pierce a hole at the top of the coin.  It was delicate work, but you managed to get it done, dropping the coin in water to instantly cool it and let it sit for a bit before lacing a leather string through it.

You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t grown especially fond of Jacob, the fool always managed to make you laugh even in the darkest of moods.  Even after your mother’s passing, you had been so close to her.  She not only taught you everything you knew, but she was your entire family.  You wouldn’t answer the door for a few days, so he just climbed up to your window and slid it open, not bothering to hide his movements.  The noise of the window opening caught you by surprise, and you caught Jacob just as he climbed up to sit on your windowsill, and he didn’t leave until you shoved him out the window, barely catching himself on the tree outside.

_“Fucking hell, woman!  Are you trying to kill me?” he barked when he climbed back up the tree, not venturing towards the window for fear of being thrown out of it **again** , “You’ve been locked up in there for days, you’re coming out before you vanish!”_

_“Bloody make me, Frye!”_

It was a tough fight, and you left him with a black eye and a split lip, but he still ended up carrying you over his shoulder and out of the house.  After your initial struggling, as everyone in Crawley gave you funny looks but did nothing, as your adventures with the Frye twins had become common knowledge throughout the rest of the community, you began to laugh.

Leaving him was going to be the hardest out of everyone.

He reacted to you leaving just as you expected, he was angry and snappish when he wasn’t immediately shutting you out.  So before you left, you gave him the small necklace you put together, explaining the tradition and adding, _“We both know this war with the Templars won’t end anytime soon, it’s a good luck charm.  Something to keep you from getting yourself killed until I get back.”_

_“I’ll be fine-“ Jacob tried to argue, but Evie cut him off with a loud scoff._

_“No, you really won’t.  You’re going to have a hard enough time with that coin.”_

_“Oi!” Jacob objected as you laughed with Evie, the call of the train reminding you that you only had a few more moments.  Evie hugged you goodbye before giving you a few moments alone with Jacob.  You promised to write often, and he nodded in reply, heartfelt goodbyes not really his **thing**.  So, you bit your lip a bit nervously before leaning forward and giving him a quick, chaste, kiss before turning on your heel and dashing onto the train._

_He was left stunned, you seemed to be the only thing able to do that to him, as the train took off.  Sure, he was experienced, you were hardly a first kiss and he was hardly a virgin, but you were the first love, and that counted for something._

Then you disappeared.  You wrote faithfully to the twins, a letter for each one, and reported regularly.  Then you just… _stopped_.  Evie reasoned you were busy, London was in a perilous state and even with their father’s associate, Mr. Henry Green, you were the only Assassin in the field so far.  Months passed with no word, and Jacob was at his wits end.  Your last letter was cryptic at best, and as he read and re-read it, it sounded more and more like you were saying _goodbye_ , like you expected your next assignment would be…would end in…

“Where is she?” he eventually demanded, refusing to take non-answers anymore.  George started to tell Jacob off, telling him he had no place knowing, but Ethan cut the other man off.  He knew, he recognized part of himself in his son as memories of a time his wife Cecily went deep undercover for a month and superiors left him without answers.  Jacob wasn’t about to let this go, he would go to London to find you.

“We don’t know,” Ethan answered honestly, “She was meant to assist my contact in London, and she had been making good progress.  Now she has missed every check in for months,” Ethan explained with a heavy heart, “She saw it necessary to take on a particularly dangerous job, and assured us she knew what she was doing.  With her mother being her primary teacher we assumed…”

After receiving the news, Jacob hid his grief but Evie knew better.  Especially when she first saw that tattoo on his chest, and noticed he wore the shilling around his neck at all times.  Most people have the chance to get over their first love, but he never had the chance to _experience_ it, leaving him…distant.  He was friendly enough, people liked being around him, and he still cared, but he never really let anyone _in_ the same way he did you.

Creating the Rooks in your name, and avenging both you and London, was the least they could do, they were going to do it.

Little did they know, you weren’t nearly as dead as you wished you were.  At least, you thought you wished you were, you didn’t exactly know.  You didn’t exactly have control at the time, and since the Apple used to control you detonated in Sir Brewster’s lab, you weren’t sure anymore.  Pieces of memories started coming back, fuzzy but still there, and while you still followed Roth’s orders to the letter, something seemed… ** _wrong_**.  This wasn’t what you were supposed to be doing, this wasn’t who you were… _right?_

If only the Rook on your shoulder could tell you, but it seemed the secrets of your past were his to keep.


	8. Little Bird In A Cage (Secret of the Rook Pt. 2)-Jacob

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A few memories had been dripping their way into your mind, but they came faster and disorganized once you met Roth's new business partner. You were then stuck assisting Mr. Frye with field work and the man just didn't know when to shut up, and his tardiness had already struck a nerve.
> 
> You were so hauntingly familiar, the idea that you were...you had to be...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> POV switches back from Rea’s to Jacob’s to try to give both sides of the story. I didn’t want to put headings where the POV switches because in some cases it switches back and forth between paragraphs and that just seems jarring. 
> 
> Also, kind of extending the partnership between Jacob an Roth because let’s face it, the story of the game is probably about a year long which means it’s reasonable to expect they were working together for a few months.

# Little Bird In A Cage

## Secrets Of The Rook Part 2

### Jacob Frye

Jacob had met with Roth before, the two had formed a partnership, and seeing a woman at the meeting was a bit of a surprise.  He had never seen her before, he knew that much.  The large hood of her knee-length red coat shadowed her face, and with the way she looked downwards it was impossible to get a good look.

Her coat was more of a deep burgundy, and far nicer than anything the rest of the Blighters had been given with black lace lining the lapel and sleeves, black gloved hands tucked under crossed arms.  The black corset that covered her white blouse, buttoned neatly to her neck, covered her bust down to her hips and was made of leather.  The corset was more like styled armor as a gray belt ran from her right breast to her hip holding multiple throwing knives, another belt hanging low around her waist held a small matching pouch and a holster for her gun.  Her black slacks fit to her form like second skin, belts around her thighs held sheaths for matching daggers, another pouch hung off her hip likely held more weapons.  Her knee-high boots had seen better days, lightweight with no heels, as dust and dirt were caked on the bottom of her boots and the black leather was worn.

The only hint of her identity was her long hair, left loose to fall over her shoulder.

“I do hope you don’t mind the little bird here joining us, she tends to follow me around when she has nothing else to do.  She might not look like much, but she is the best of the bunch,” Roth just barely introduced you before he feigned lament over the fact he didn’t have _full_ control of you, “A shame my business partners borrow her so much, but I only have the little bird because of them, and she is a rather poor conversationalist.”

“She certainly seems capable,” Jacob admitted, giving you another look.  You were heavily armed, the hilts of your daggers were old and worn, showing signs of use and repair.

“I assure you she is, woman or not.”

“I don’t doubt that, first scar I ever got was from a 12-year-old girl,” Jacob chuckled at the memory as he casually, and briefly, pointed to the scar on his brow, “Not once did I ever consider being kicked in the head by someone standing right in front of me.”

Roth let loose a bout of amused laughter, “That mentality was quickly corrected, I assume.”

“I had to get up off my ass first, but once I remembered the bloody _date_ I kept that risk in mind.”

You almost jolted when you heard Mr. Frye speak of the memory, echoes of voices sounding off in your head.  A spectating girl laughing, a 12-year-old girl – you – apologizing, a pubescent boy still stunned as his voice cracked a bit during his exclamation, “ _What in the bloody hell was that?”_

There was something more.  A name, no, a _place_.  Crawley, a back yard surrounded by a tall wooden fence, rooftops that served as fun places to race or sit and talk, a classroom where you struggled to get a friend to study.  People walking down the snow-lined streets dodging out of the way as you and two friends were _at it again_ , dashing to the nearest cover as the rain started.  Bitter jealousy as a boy, a friend, took advantage of the attention of admirers, the thudding heartbeat as he flashed you a charming smile.  Heartbreak at goodbye, a gift, the sound of the train, a shy first – and last – kiss, tears as you watched home disappear behind you, the boy stopped chasing the train when a girl – his sister – caught up to him at the edge of the station platform.  Questions, would he have boarded the train and joined you in London?  It was all fuzzy, no faces or names, just emotions and sensations, voices and laughter, events and places, but it was all still there.

“Little bird, are you paying attention?” Roth pulled you out of your sudden daydream as you turned to the gang leader.  You didn’t speak, you weren’t allowed to unless directly ordered to, or as necessary in the field.  You were a _silent_ caged bird, and punished for singing when you weren’t allowed.

“You will be assisting Mr. Frye in dealing with a few small matters before we can get to work _fixing_ this town.  You’ll be meeting him tomorrow afternoon, I’ll tell you where when we have it settled.”  Roth waved his hand in a way that told you to leave.  Without another word, you left for the nearest Blighter’s hideout, planning on getting some rest, food, and resupplying for the upcoming job.

Jacob watched as the woman, _little bird_ , as she walked away.  She was pretty, from what he could tell with her hood up, but she was a mystery.

“Pretty little thing, if you’re into that,” Roth admitted, bored with speaking of you outside of anything work related, “But she’s an _artist_ with her work, and that’s what truly matters.  Now, onto more crucial business.”

 

You were at the meeting point, at the allotted time, and Mr. Frye was _late_.  You were to gather intelligence on rogue Blighters, looking to take over the gang and take London from the Rooks.  The plan was to follow the turncoats to their leaders, from there you would identify them and make a plan to kill them, cutting the head off of the snake.  To add to your irritation with the leader of the Rooks, he _insisted_ on passing the time with unnecessary conversation.

“Do you _ever_ shut up?” you finally snapped.  There was a job to do.

“Ah, so the little bird speaks,” he replied smugly, kneeling next to you as you spied on a meeting from the rooftops, “Does she _sing_ as well?”

“No.”

“Never met a man who could-“

“Too focused on getting the job done.  What _will_ it take to shut you up?”  You turned away from your targets to glare at Mr. Frye, the bird that had been by your side close enough and trained well enough to trail your targets and point you in the right direction if you lost them.  You _wouldn’t_ , but the source of your nickname always had your back.  The Assassin could tell you were pissed, your eyes were still hidden by your hood, but your lips were tightly pursed in anger.

“Answer three questions about yourself, _honestly.”_

“One.”

“Two.”

You mulled over the offer and let out a huff and an angry, “ _Fine_.  After the job is done.”

You hoped he would forget, but after you gathered everything you could together, he followed you down the dark and cold streets of Lambeth.

There was something hauntingly familiar about you, and your voice.  The cold sharpness seemed foreign, like it didn’t belong, and there was something _wrong_ with it.  Even so, he couldn’t shake the feeling…if you just told him a little more about yourself, if he could _see_ under the hood…

“What’s your _real_ name, it can’t be _bird._ ”  It was an obvious place to start, but it was a good one.

“I’m not sure.  Someone, _something_ took it from me,” you grimaced at how you gave an honest answer.  You had multiple names, weeks ago you would have given Mr. Frye one of those while wishing you could answer honestly.  Now…it was a modicum of… _freedom_ you didn’t expect…the… _thing_ keeping you in line, making you follow orders, was _gone_ and now your mind was filling with disorganized thoughts and memories…it was so foreign… _human_ …

“You remember where you’re from?”  His voice was softer now, you could clearly hear the pity.  You didn’t know if you appreciated it or hated it.

“Crawley, I think…” you still weren’t sure, but it sounded right when you said it out loud, you stared down at the street as you the unclear memories coming to mind, “There was a boy I…we were very close…but I had to leave…”

As the edge left your voice, your tone softening as you spoke about a missing past…no…no, she was gone.  Dead and gone, body likely disposed of by Templars who couldn’t recognize how special she was.  Still… _Crawley_ wasn’t particularly large, not as much as it seemed with the Assassins there.  And you mentioned a boy you left behind.

“At any rate, I’ve answered your questions and I have a contact to meat with privately,” your tone was once again sharp as you departed, “I’ll send a message with the place and time soon enough.”

Jacob didn’t know what to think by the time he returned to the train, his thoughts running in the same circle or reasoning ever since he watched you climb up a nearby building with ease and make your way to the contact you needed to meet.  It was still early for him, but it was late enough to send the straggling Rooks on the train back home, as well as ask Agnes if she had a place to stay if he gave her the night off.

“You bet I do laddie, places all over the city.”

He paused in shrugging off his coat, hat already hung on the coat rack, eyeing the caretaker carefully as he spoke, “I can never tell if you’re serious or messing with me.”

Agnes smiled and patted the young gang leader’s shoulder with an amused smile and a twinkle in her eyes, breaking her normal character to bring a bit of softness, “I’m always messing with yeh, but this time I’m being honest too.  Do take care of yourself till I’m back, we can all tell you’re bothered.”

Oh, great.  _That_ news was _just_ what he needed.

The sudden exodus at a _reasonable_ hour was what first caught Evie’s attention, seeing as Rooks would depart the train at the station closest to their homes, a few still waiting for their stop.  Agnes had left her usual post to speak with the Rooks in the next car over, seeing what needed to be restocked in the bar, leaving the twins alone.  Jacob had already tugged at his red tie, and the first few buttons on his shirt and vest.  He had practically collapsed into his seat on the couch, taking a swig right from the whiskey bottle on top of the safe and rubbing at his eyes as he sat back.

“Work with Roth not going as you planned?”  Evie didn’t approve, and that was clear from her tone.  Jacob had a history of working with the enemy and getting himself into trouble, she doubted things would work out as well as they did when Pearl Attaway conned him.  Still, she asked the question as she sat down at the desk Agnes usually occupied.

“Do you think there’s any chance she’s alive?”  He looked up at his sister, honestly dropping his guard for the first time since he _knew_ [Y/N] was MIA.

“I’d like to but…”  She paused, Evie had to phrase this thought very carefully, “If she is, then she likely isn’t the person we thought…why-“

“There’s a girl that works for Roth, or Starrick it’s never been clear, and she’s so…she keeps her face hidden but it’s _her_ , it’s _her voice_ ,” Jacob stared into an imaginary distance ahead of him, “The way she moves and fights…she’s forgotten everything else, but she remembers _Crawley_.”

“Jacob, it’s possible that you’re simply imagining things.  It’s been a long time since we’ve seen her, perhaps-“

It wasn’t the train stopping at the station that cut Evie off, it was the homeless woman that stepped onto the train and held out a note for Jacob, “Bird says this is for you.”

“Thanks…” Jacob took the note, and the woman immediately turned to leave, making her way off of the train with the rest of the Rooks and taking off.  The twins watched, both of them muddled, before the train started moving again and Jacob opened the small, folded piece of paper.

 

_Southwark Station.  6 pm._

_They’ve rented out a pub for the evening._

_If you want in on the action, be on time._

 

That handwriting…Jacob jumped up and started rifling through things, looking for the old coat he brought with him from Crawley.  Evie questioned her brother’s mad dash around the train car to find his old jacket before he dug it out from behind the couch, reaching into the hidden pockets inside and pulling out an old letter.  He unfolded the two stationary pages, flipping the first so the back was facing Evie as he handed the note and the letter to her.

Evie’s brow furrowed as she compared the script on the note to the script on the letter, before looking at Jacob, “Is this one of _her_ letters?”

“The bloody hell do you think?”

“I don’t know what to think!” Evie snapped back, shooting up from her seat as she dropped the note and letter onto the desk, “The writing is the same, but…why is she working for the Blighters, and the _Templars_?”

“Because _she doesn’t remember_ , she _barely_ remembers Crawley.  They did something-“ Jacob stopped when he noticed the look on Evie’s face.  He knew that look, that was the look she got every time the pieces clicked together, the puzzle finally solved as she figured out _exactly_ what the answers were.

“ _The Piece of Eden in Brewster’s lab,”_ she spoke barely above a whisper as her eyes met her twin’s before dashing back to her own car and rifling through the papers on her desk.  Jacob followed, not knowing just what his sister was getting at.  Just what in the hell did some ancient hunk of metal have to do with you?

“Brewster was studying an Apple of Eden,” Evie explained as she finally found the papers she was looking for, reading them word for word, “ _The Apples of Eden are capable of multiple things, from creating copies of the user to tracing and mapping other pieces of Eden…_ where is it… _ah!  They have commonly been used to control and manipulate the minds of the masses for centuries.  From altering memories, to altering personalities, they have the ability to control specific individuals to large groups.”_

Indignant couldn’t quite explain the look Jacob was giving his sister, arms crossed as he raised his scarred brow.  There was no way some old glorified _ball_ was able to control you, there was just _no way_.  It took more than that to affect your mind, you were stronger than that-

“If you have a better idea, I’d _love_ to hear it!” Evie snapped, not appreciating her brother’s silent judgement.  The scowl that grew on Jacob’s face made it clear he had no better ideas, not if they weren’t going to accept the fact that you betrayed the Assassins.  If an Apple of Eden _was_ used to control you, then the easiest way to save you would be using the same device to withdraw the control.  So, as befitting the Frye family luck, the device and the lab _exploded_.

“Even if that _is_ the cause, it exploded and took down the entire lab.  So, how do we…she remembered Crawley,” Jacob was about to argue, before something clicked into mind before dashing back to his room, snatching the letter off the desk and looking for a specific passage, “She remembered _more_ than that.  She mentioned a boy she was close to before she _had to_ leave and said, _something_ _took_ her memories from her.  If she was under control, she wouldn’t be allowed to say things like that, whatever’s controlling her is failing-“

“ _Because the Apple was destroyed_.”  The statement was as much an argument as it was a piece of the puzzle, something that at least implied your memories were beginning to filter back on their own.  All you needed was a stimulant to _bring them back._

“ _That doesn’t matter!_ ” Jacob snapped before heaving a heavy sigh and practically collapsing back onto the couch, leaning back as the _real_ question came into play, “How do we bring her back?”

They had no proof, no _real_ proof, that it was you.  Jacob hadn’t even seen your face, but the circumstantial evidence was piling up.  There was enough to run on the assumption that it really _was_ you, at least until they received more solid proof.  The question of how to bring you back, however, brought a silence as neither twin had any answers, all Jacob could do was read through the last letter you sent.

_Things have been becoming more perilous as time has passed, I fear the Templars here are going mad with power.  Perhaps they are simply going mad.  I have no proof, but their actions are becoming more and more erratic and obsessed, and I dare not imagine where that will lead.  The city is suffering terribly, and despite that my thoughts continue to return to Crawley.  Not Crawley, specifically, but more about you.  I wonder what might have happened if I stayed.  I know we haven’t talked about the kiss, it seems we actively avoid that every time we write, but I feel I might not have the chance to tell you the truth soon._

_I don’t know what love is, I cannot say I ever have, but I know just how much you mean to me.  I miss you dearly, and I feel incomplete without you.  I know not what this assignment will bring, but I hope whatever happens, you will find happiness and peace in your life, with or without me._

_Forever yours,_

_Rook_


End file.
